The 103rd Annual Hunger Games Gorillaz Style
by DancingToMyOwnRhythms
Summary: The gang is living in District 8, long after Katniss. What happens when a certain little purple-headed axe princess gets selected as tribute? Reviews and comments please and thank you!
1. The Reaping: All four Gorillaz

**A/N: So this is my first fanfiction and I wanted to do something no one else would think of! So, things are a little backwards time-wise. The band is living in District 8, and it takes place AFTER Katniss. Noodle is about 14. I know it makes no sense, but hey, just go with my creative process! This is the first part of it, so it only includes the reapings. Enjoy **

**By the way, I don't own Gorillaz or The Hunger Games (but I wish I did!)**

_**Noodle**_

Reaping day. Attendance was required. Although I'm sure any of the boys would have _gladly_ missed it if they could. Watching two innocent children be basically sentenced to death isn't anyone's idea of "fun." Even Murdoc, who claims he cares nothing about these District kids doesn't enjoy going to reapings. As we walked to the center of the District, I nervously laced my fingers through 2-D's. I could always count on him to make me feel better. He looked down at me and smiled, reassuringly ruffling my hair. "Don' worry, luv. They won't choose you." His sweet accent relaxed me somewhat. I nodded, feeling a little better, but I still didn't let go of 2-D's hand the whole way there. When we arrived, we were late, (as usual) and Opal Fauchevelant, with her obnoxious orange hair, was already at the microphone, rattling on about what an _honor_ being a tribute is, and such drivel. After her speech, I watched as she reached into the boy's container. She pulled out Andrew Harris' name. He was a tall, skinny blonde boy, about a year older than me. I didn't know him well, and yet I still felt bad for him and his family. I watched as mother began crying as he stepped on the stage. Then I saw that she was sticking her hand daintily into the container that had all of the girls' names. She picked one out, unrolled it, and read with great dramatic flourish, one word.

"_Noodle." _

Oh, crap.

_**Murdoc**_

What do I care about reaping day anyways? What do I care about these pathetic District saps? But, _of course, _attendance is "required," so the gang dragged me here. I made a point to trail the furthest behind the others as we walked there. I saw Noodle grab 2-D's hand. Poor kid. Reapings always scare her. I guess that happens when you're an eligible tribute. I'll admit, they ain't the most pleasant thing to watch. When we showed up, that ridiculous Opal Fauche-I-never-bothered-to-learn-her-last-name woman was giving some rambling speech about the Games. She really was a sight, her annoying orange wig, her loud, high pitched voice. I chose to tune her out. I must've clicked back into reality when I noticed her putting her hand into the girls' bin. She pulled out a slip of paper and her voice boomed into the microphone as she read aloud the name.

_"Noodle."_

Shit!

_**2-D**_

Reapings. I hate 'em all. Watching two innocent kids get the death sentence just ain't fair! They didn't do nothin' to deserve such miserable, painful deaths now did they? Me, Noodle, Russel, and that other one headed for the center of the District to watch the poor kids get sent off to die. Noodle was shaking horrendously. She grabbed my hand unsteadily. The poor child. Sometimes we forget she's only 14. I looked down at the tiny little girl and tried to comfort her. We reached the center just in time to hear the last bit of that disgusting, orange-headed Opal woman. She called up some boy named Andrew Harris or somethin' like that. Then, she grabbed for the girl's name. She slowly unraveled the tiny slip of paper, and read one, very loud, very clear, all-too-familiar word.

_"Noodle." _

What in bloody hell?

_**Russel**_

I ain't gonna lie. I hate reapings. They disgust me. The Capitol disgusts me. The Games disgust me. All of Panem disgusts me. The only other person who doesn't disgust me is Noodle. Poor baby girl. I saw her grab 2-D's hand as we walked to the reaping. She really was such a little thing, especially compared to 2-D's lanky, tall figure. I would've run up and grabbed her myself, calmed her down and got her to stop shaking. But I left it up to 'D instead. I trust him enough, I suppose. We showed up late, as always. That disgusting woman with the orange hair was giving a speech. She grabbed a name from the boys' bin. Some kid named Andrew Harris. I don't figure Noodle knew him; he was probably a little older than her. That poor boy. The woman reached into the girls' bin and pulled out a name. That name happened to be a name I knew very well. I heard it around our house often. Sometimes Murdoc was screaming it, sometimes 2-D was laughing as he spoke it. That name was

_"Noodle."_

**Well my little sea-monkey children what do you** **think? Leave me a review and let me know if it's worth continuing! :) **


	2. The Justice Building: Noodle

**The Justice Building**

**3:37 P.M. **

** Noodle**

3:37 P.M. Or at least that's what the watch around the Peacekeeper's wrist read, as he dragged me and Andrew Harris, handcuffed, to the crumbling Justice Building. I focused on the small blinking numbers on the watch's face. I didn't exactly want to focus on the Peacekeeper's face for that matter. I directed my attention to Andrew Harris' face instead. His face was tear-stained, his blue eyes puffy and glistening. He was tall, lanky, not unlike 2-D. But his face was completely different. Pale skin, nearly-white hair in short spikes. Freckles sprinkled across his face. He was more than a year older than me, yet he looked so young. Despite being so tall and statuesque, he could have easily passed off for maybe eight years old. I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around him, tell him that everything would be alright.

But the Peacekeepers prohibited me. And even if I could, I wouldn't.

Because saying that everything will be alright,

Would be a lie.

24 of us were going in.

Only one would come out.

I was going to have to kill him.

**3:43 P.M. **

"Alright, you three get 4 minutes with her to say your goodbyes. Hurry up!" The Peacekeeper's voice was rough and snarling and he pushed my three band mates into the musty room. The boys simply stared at me for a moment. Murdoc coughed nervously. 2-D forced a weary smile. Russel fidgeted. I broke the silence as I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Great. I _hated_ crying. "I'm sorry," was all I could squeak out. 2-D stepped forward and stooped down to my eye level and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Luv, you've got absolutely nuffin' to be sorry about. You didn't do nuffin' wrong. It ain't fair, but it ain't your fault." He hugged me tightly and ruffled my hair. "I love you, Noodle. Get out there and make all of District 8 proud of you. I'll be seeing you when you get back home." He wiped a tear from my eye and, with a wink, he stepped back slightly. Russel came forward next. He didn't say anything, only wrapped his arms around me and wouldn't let go. This only made me cry harder. "Baby girl," he whispered. That was all he needed to say. He kissed my forehead and smiled at me and Murdoc approached me uncertainly. He placed a bony arm around my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. "Well, Noodle love, the boys and I wish you the best of luck. We don't got the money to…well, we ain't bettin' men, but if we were," he gave my shoulder a squeeze, "we'd all be betting on you." I felt a little better as the boys all nodded and smiled at me. My family.

The Peacekeeper's incessant banging startled us. "Alright, time's up!" the gruff voice sneered from the other side of the door. My three other Gorillaz stood up, and with a small wave and a smile, they were all gone.

When would I see them again?

Or, more importantly,

_Would _I see them again?


End file.
